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casey16lauer · 1 year

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So I’ve had a really awful month- first my family and I had to put one of our cats down because he suddenly got really sick, and then my uncle passed away from stage four kidney cancer. I never got to say goodbye to him and I feel awful about it. I recently found out that my great aunt who’s had cancer for a long time is going into hospice because her chemo treatments aren’t working, and it feels like I just haven’t had a break from all this bad news and grief. It feels like it’s never ending and I’m afraid that something else horrible is going to happen. I was wondering, how do you think the Bucci gang would react to my situation if I was friends with them? Thank you so much for answering

LEAN ON ME - BUCCI GANG X READER

Warnings : mentions of grief and death, hospitals and hospices, their relationships are platonic, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : comfort <3

Word count : 1.2K words

Additional notes : I can’t even begin to apologize for how long it took me to write this. I had gone through something traumatic myself, and it took me a very long time to start answering my ask box. By the time I’ve reached this request, it’s already been so long🥲 I really hope that you’re faring better right now, and I pray for strength to your weary heart. I hope this request does justice to your feelings and honors them💗

Requests : Are closed for the time being.

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

Bruno’s easily the most comforting presence anyone could ever ask to have in their life, and he proves it with how he reacts to hearing the news from them as they cry their heart out to him

Maybe he won’t be so forward so as to embrace them, but he gently takes their hand in his, a silent vow to always be there for them, sealing it with a small smile

He’s the best to offer calming words; even though he knows that he can’t give them empty promises that things will be fine, what he can do is reassure them that no matter what happens in their personal life, it’s totally fine to grieve with him

Having seen all the horrors there are in Napoli, he’d never invalidate their feelings or their struggles, and it’s that fact that makes him such a lovely friend to have

If any expenses were necessary, whether at the hospice, funeral, burial grounds, or even just comforting purchases for themself, he’d pay for them all; it’s the least he could do to alleviate some of their pain and take away their troubles

He’s a tough nut to crack, but once having become friends with him, Abbacchio is the most loyal and devoted man there is, which makes him a great listener despite himself

All grump and daily exasperation pushed aside, he becomes that silent supporter that they need, listening to all their worries and sobs about the grief they’d been carrying all alone for a long time

He’s not the best with coming to terms with death and still carries a lot of guilt himself, so he won’t be the best in that area, but at the very least he can offer a night of heart-to-heart talk over drinks, where everything they need to feel lighter is taken care of

Abbacchio will never leave their side, even if he prefers to linger in the shadows and let them take the grief headfirst, because he knows that escaping from the truth never did him any well… it might seem a little cruel, but they both know he’s doing it for their own good

And at the end of the day, when their tears are blurring their vision and their heart feels so heavy it becomes a burden in their chest, he shoulders half the weight with them just by being so close

As much as Mista believes that a lighthearted attitude can ease any tension and shoulder off any burden, he’s not an insensitive prick and knows when that is not welcomed nor the right way to go about it

So, with a little awkwardness, he learns to sit still and listen to them earnestly as they tear up and let outball their worries and grief in one go, even if it snaps his heart in two to hear them so distraught

He’s had his fair share of losing loved ones and worrying over other people’s lives without having had the chance to say goodbye, but he’s never really outwardly expressed it, so this might actually be a little therapeutic for him too

With hands as gentle as they are when dealing with the Sex Pistols, he wraps them in a casual but affectionate embrace and encourages them to always lean on him

He’s as dependable as could be, so he’d never fail to offer them solace when things get too rough and they feel overwhelmed with heartbreak

Giorno’s always been torn between immense apathy and absolute understanding of other people’s emotions, but when it comes to this happening to someone so dear to him, he’d empathize with them immediately

After having become the Don, he knows more than anyone just how difficult it is to say goodbye too soon, and how hard it is to still continue about your day while still carrying guilt for having not been ready for it

So he’d be the best person to seek that sort of quiet, understanding comfort from, and it helps that he’s not a man of many words; he believes that simply sitting beside them and offering his shoulder for them to lean their head on is more than enough to show his endless support

He’s quick to reassure them that things won’t get worse—as long as he’s there with them, they’ll never have to worry about anything because he’ll always offer his protection and services

As for the realm of life and death? Though it’s out of his hands, he’ll always stand beside them, come what may, and they could always count on that

Fugo was still grieving himself when they came to him with tears streaking down their cheeks and a heartbroken expression on their face, and he found that he couldn’t turn them away

For someone who had so few friends that he cherished so much, he felt it tug at his heartstrings seeing them so upset, and he felt the urge to instantly offer them comfort, but simply didn’t know how to go about it

It soon became apparent to him that being there was simply more than enough; yes, him trying to talk to them and reassure them that it’s alright to struggle with their muddled feelings at the moment was helpful, but the gentle patting of his hand at their back was more than perfect

He might try to rationalize their fears while simultaneously trying to convince them that they weren’t very logical, which might come off as a bit rude, but it was just his awkward attempt at trying to dispel their worries

As someone who frequented the hospital before to see other people, he’d probably offer to visit the hospice with them if that’s what they wish; he’s immune to the negativity that thrives there, and would do anything to make himself a reliable presence when he tags along with them

It’s no secret that Narancia wears his heart on his sleeve, and gets very easily affected by the changing moods around him—and with someone so close to him feeling so terrible, it’s impossible for him to not feel for them

When they run to him and cry into his chest, he finds it hard to blink back the tears that formed in his eyes as they sobbed and vented to him about how absolutely devastated they were, and how the walls felt like they were closing in on them; a familiar enough feeling for the mafioso

While there isn’t much in his hands to do, he’s more than eager to wrap them in the warmest hug imaginable and offer his most sincere condolences

Now it seems that everywhere they go, they’ll find Narancia tagging along and keeping them company, hoping that doing so will lessen the burden and encourage them to embrace how they’re feeling and voice all their fears and worries

Personally, he’s got far too much bad history with hospitals and illnesses, so he would rather not go with them, but he��s more than willing to make up for it by waiting for them with their comfort take-out food as soon as they get back

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casey16lauer · 2 years

Text

Foolish Games:

Bruno Bucciarati x GN!Reader: 3.5k words

“Excuse me, think I’ve mistaken you for somebody else,

Somebody who gave a damn."

Warnings: death, spoilers for Part 5, slightly nsfw-ish.

Abbacchio looked peaceful as he layed on the ground; his sharp features were relaxed, his eyes closed and his long lashes were throwing a soft shade on his cheekbones. It seemed as if he was sleeping on the beach, with the sunset warming up the pale strands of his hair.

Your ears were echoing with a rumbling noise. You could no longer hear the waves crashing against the white rocks, nor the voices of your teammates. You stood there, a blank expression on your face, your eyes fixed on your best friend's serene appearance. You couldn't bring yourself to stare at the blood staining his clothes and the tips of his long locks of hair. You felt a hand squeezing your shoulder, softly at first, then more firmly, in an attempt to make you snap out of your trance.

You watched Narancia run towards Abbacchio. He grabbed him by the shoulders, his knuckles white in the exertion as he tried to shake the older man. You saw the boy's tears rolling down his face and forming darker patches on the fabric of Abbacchio's suit. Your own vision became blurry and you felt something warm trailing down your cheeks towards your jaw. Yet everything seemed distant, muted, as if this was just a bad dream.

When Narancia's expression changed something snapped inside of you. He looked at someone behind you with disbelief in his big round eyes, then he got up abruptly, his features distorted by anger. Abbacchio was as still as before. You felt the weight of the hand on your shoulder disappear and when you instinctively turned around, a thunder exploded in your ears.

It was Narancia yelling. Mista was standing between him and Bucciarati, whose back was turned, almost as if he was about to leave. Giorno was observing the scene, watching with attentive eyes from behind Bruno's shoulder, ready to intervene if needed.

"We're not gonna leave him here!" the younger boy yelled. He called Bucciarati's name, but the man wouldn't turn around. When he spoke, his voice was form, his words as sharp as the blade of a knife.

"This is a direct order, Narancia. Get in the turtle." It took you some moments for his words to breach through your dazy consciousness. When they did, the weight of the world fell upon you. You conjured all of your strength not to fall to your knees. Your mouth was dry and your throat coarse; there was a knot at the pit of your stomach.

Abbacchio was dead. Golden Experience had healed his body, but Giorno arrived too late: your best friend's soul had already left its recipient. You turned around again to look at the lifeless body of the former cop, hoping that you'd find him sitting on the sand with a sardonic smile on his face. He hadn't moved: Abbacchio's body was as still as before. Your throat tightened as more tears formed a cloudy veil on your retinas. You blinked and the tears fell on the sand at your feet.

"I - I can't leave him here", you finally said. You could feel everyone's attention focusing on you, almost as if four snipers had pointed their rifles at the back of your head. You moved towards Abbacchio and heard Bucciarati's voice calling your name, but decided to ignore him.

You kneeled near the body and took Abbacchio's right hand into yours. "His body is getting cold, but it's still kind of warm", you observed in a stupor. You had touched many dead bodies before - it was part of the job after all - but never the corpse of someone you had known and loved. The uncanny algidy and stillness were compelling you to let go, as the primordial fear of death had egotistically awakened.

Bucciarati had finally turned around: even without looking in his direction, you could feel his glare burning holes through your skull. "How can you expect me to leave him like this?" you asked. You could feel your tears dotting on your own clasped hands, as if they were heavy raindrops. "Like he's an animal, like he's less than human", you continued, ignoring Mista who was trying to gently tug on you, murmuring comforting words that mingled into a confuse background noise. Narancia was now sobbing, his face covered by his own hands. Even Giorno had lowered his eyes in a somber manifestation of grief. You couldn't look at Bucciarati. "He had spent many years thinking of himself as worthless. I am not going to treat him like such in death."

"Enough!" Bucciarati's voice startled everyone and made you flinch. The man strode over to you and grabbed you by your arm, pulling at your body much more aggressively than Mista. "I should punish you for your insubordination", he said through gritted teeth, as his finger tips pierced through your flesh. You tried to wrench, but his grasp was iron-clad.

"Well, excuse me for mistakingly thinking that you cared", you said as you raised your eyes to meet his. His hold on your arm got weaker and a thousand different emotions crossed his face. He muttered your name so softly you would tell he was breathless. You must have hit him where it hurt.

"He's dead", he said. You saw his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his eyes darted for a brief second on Abbacchio's lifeless form, before meeting yours again. "I can't afford to lose you too. Anyone", he added immediately after, stuttering. "Please, come with me", he said as he offered you his hand. You looked at it and heard Giorno's voice.

"I'll make sure his body is well hidden and protected until we come back to give him a proper burial", he offered. His eyes seemed sincere and open, as he spoke with a soft warm voice.

"Promise me that whatever happens, you'll come back for him", you finally said. You felt something tickling your arm and turned your head to see tall grass blades growing out of Leone's body.

"We, will come back", Giorno corrected you. You nodded and accepted Bruno's hand. You didn't think much of its coldness, and he immediately let you go as you got back up on your feet.

Narancia's sobs had subsided. He was looking at Abbacchio's body being covered in lush Mediterranean greenery with glassy eyes. As you walked by him, you put your arm around his shoulders and gently pulled him away. He hid his face in the curve of your neck and started crying again.

As you all walked away, you turned around one more time and said goodbye. You were going to avenge Abbacchio's death, no matter what happened.

"I'd like you to drive in the car with me." As you were about to jump in the turtle, Bucciarati's hand on your shoulder stopped you. You nodded, not giving his request too much thought: it was indeed better for the driver to have some company. Not only in case an enemy Stand user attacked, but also to keep him awake in case he were to start drifting asleep.

You waited for the last member of the team to reach safety within Coco Jumbo before getting in the car. Bruno had opened the door for you; you thanked him with an absent minded smile as you sat down. The door closed with a loud thud that made you jolt. A few moments later, Bruno sat in the driver's seat and the engine of the stolen Alfa Romeo rumbled as he revved it up.

The two of you drove in silence to the boat that was expecting you on the other coast of Sardinia. The dying light of the sunset tinged the clouds of a burnt shade of orange on your right; on your left, the sky was turning dark. You sighed at the sight of the sea emerging from the luxurious Mediterranean vegetation. A tight knot formed once more at the back of your throat as your mind wandered and recollected the painful memories that you so desperately wanted to put aside. It was not the time to allow yourself to wallow in grief. That was not what Abbacchio would've wanted. If you made it out alive, you would have the time to mourn, after getting your revenge.

Bruno's voice calling your name interrupted your grim reflections. You instinctively turned your head towards your Capo and hummed, encouraging him to continue. You found yourself admiring his profile as the dying sunset casted a warm highlight to the highest parts of his face: his chiseled cheekbone and straight jawline, his long aquiline nose and his prominent cupid's bow. You felt a pang of guilt in the pit of your stomach and turned your head towards your window once again.

"I am sorry for my behavior earlier", he said. You sighed and started protesting, but he interrupted you. "I cared about Leone more than you can imagine." When you looked at him, his jaw was clenched, his muscles tense and eyebrows furrowed, forming a deep line on his forehead.

"I am sorry for being selfish", you replied. "I acted as if I was the only one grieving." Bruno nodded; the gesture caused a strand of black hair to fall from behind his ear and caress his cheek. "I am also sorry for what I said to you." You bit your lip, trying to find the best words to continue. "I could never say those words and mean it."

Bruno let out a bitter cackle. "I couldn't blame you even if you really meant it."

"I understand why you ordered us to leave: the-the murderer", you hesitated for a second, pushing the familiar pressure building in your throat down, "might have been still there."

"I could have explained my reasoning better", he said.

"You shouldn't have to worry about that. You are the leader, after all", you replied.

Silence fell in the cockpit as the twilight darkness descended; a blade of lighter blue on the horizon was all that was left of the sunset. The weight of Coco Jumbo on your lap felt comforting, it was grounding you to reality and not allowing your mind to wander in dangerous labyrinths.

You stopped at the gas station to buy some food before you left Sardinia. The mysterious man that had contacted your team with precious information was waiting for you in Rome. At least, you had a new target now, somewhere to go. Your gut instinct told you that the resolution was near. The feeling was almost like an electric shockwave running through your veins, making your heart beat faster and awakening a new-found energy within you. 'I'm going to take the Boss down for you, Abbacchio', you thought to yourself.

You watched Bruno pumping gas for the last stretch of road by car, before you boarded the boat. He was casually leaning on the side of the vehicle, but his eyes were darting around, looking for possible enemies that might had followed you. He caught you staring at him from the side view mirror and gave you a smile. You immediately averted your gaze and pretended to be very interested by the pattern om Coco Jumbo's shell.

Narancia's voice startled you as it echoed in the cockpit. You lowered your gaze and looked at his apologetic expression reflected on the Ruby embedded in the turtle's shell.

"I forgot to buy the mineral water for Trish. Do you mind going back inside?" You heard Trish protesting from inside the turtle, but Narancia ignored her, and kept pleading you. You frowned: you were almost certain that you'd seen the familiar profile of a San Pellegrino bottle peeking through the thin plastic bag that Narancia carried from the store. However, you might have been mistaken: the day had been long and you had not been the most attentive person in the past couple of hours. You agreed to go into the gas station to purchase the mineral water.

You got out of the car and were greeted by a breeze of fresh air that made you shiver. Bruno looked at you inquisitively, so you explained to him the situation. "Narancia will forget his own head one of these days", you commented rolling your eyes. Bruno didn't reply, but a shy smile appeared on his somber expression.

You entered the store and immediately directed yourself towards the refrigerator, following the recognizable buzz of its compressor. You wrapped your hand around the plastic handle of the glass door, pulled and opened it; then you leaned down to retrieve the desired mineral water. When you finally found what you were looking for, someone suddenly closed the door on you. You immediately raised your head towards the person responsible and was met by Bruno's ocean blue eyes. You blinked and felt your lips part in surprise. You slowly began straightening your posture while keeping eye contact.

"I want to talk to you", he stated simply. He seemed his usual self, yet when he spoke his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

"Is there something wrong?" you asked. Your eyes started darting around, looking for a possible threat; the two of you were alone behind the aisles. The cashier couldn't see you from where you were standing, nor there were any other clients in the store. Bruno chuckled and his eyes shyed away from your features.

"No. I asked Mista to guard the car in case anything happened. We have a couple of minutes before someone comes looking for us", he explained. You felt your heartbeat hasten in your chest and swallowed slowly; the reasoning behind his actions was still unclear, yet a part of you felt happy to be finally alone with him.

"Is there anything that you want to talk to me about?" you finally asked. Bruno's eyes were again staring at your features and for a second you could have sworn that he was indulging on your lips. He lowered his gaze and shook his head, as the black curtain of his hair hid his expression from you. When he spoke, the deep sadness of his words made your heart feel heavy.

"This may be my last chance", he said. You muttered his name and took a step towards him, filling the distance that separated the two of you. With shaky hands, you moved the hair away and cupped his face. He slowly raised his eyes from the ground, a pained expression on his features.

Nausea hit you along with an unpleasant fresh memory. When you touched Bruno, his skin felt not much different than cold marble. You tried to justify it by blaming the frigid wind, yet the coldness beneath your fingertips reminded you of Abbacchio's pale hands. You fought the urge to withdraw your palms and stared Bruno in the eyes.

"It happened in Venice", he said simply. You frowned, as the rațional part of your brain tried to fight the implications, refusing to admit the possibility of Bruno's revelation. "The only thing keeping me", he hesitated, "in this state, is sheer will."

When you spoke, your voice cracked. "Does anyone know?" was all that you could ask.

"Giorno", he replied. You nodded and felt the tears once again falling down your cheeks. This time you couldn't help yourself: there was no distraction to keep you put together. You let yourself fall to pieces once again, but this time, far from your teammates indiscrete eyes, Bruno could allow himself to be there for you.

He hesitated for a brief moment before taking you into his arms, almost as if he was afraid of startling you, or you being disgusted by him. He only relaxed when you returned his embrace and hid your face into the crane of his neck, letting the tears flow freely. You felt the fabric of his suit getting wet, but he didn't seem to care, so neither did you. He pressed a comforting kiss on your cheek, his cold lips grazing your cheekbone shyly. Your heartbeat was drumming in your ribcage, without being met by Bruno's in response. You raised your head with a slow deliberate moving, allowing Bruno to move away if he wanted. He didn't.

His thumb grazed your cheek, capturing a teardrop and smearing it on your skin as he gently brushed his finger pad against it. Your sight was foggy because of the crying; Bruno's irises were the only thing you could see clearly, and they got closer and closer to you. Until you felt a pair of colp lips pressing against your own.

It was a chaste kiss, surprisingly soft. You were almost expecting for Bruno's mouth to be rigid against your own, but his flesh was supple.

All you ever wanted, since you joined the team, was happening. And yet you couldn't be more distraught. Your best friend had just died; you were also going to lose the man you secretly loved. You had already lost him, without even knowing.

Bruno parted from you and you slowly opened your eyes. You stopped him from letting you go entirely by grasping at the fabric of his suit and pushing his body against yours once more. He exhaled and a cold breath of air fanned your wet lips.

"I will not let you go so easily", you whispered, so close to his mouth your lips almost touched his. With a swift movement, Bruno pushed you against the refrigerator; your back was pressing against its cold surface. The Capo's hands were squeezing your hips and his tight parted your legs, making you bite your lower lip at the delicious pressure on your sex. The fire of desire that made your cheeks flush was mirrored in Bruno's eyes. Your hands were resting on his shoulders, grasping at the fabric of his suit.

When he kissed you a second time, there was no space for chastity in the urgent need of his lips on yours. You didn't even care about the initial clashing of teeth: when Bruno's tongue brushed against your own, you let out a moan that was swallowed by his eager mouth. Your fingers were now buried in his dark locks of hair, encouraging him to keep going, to push against you even deeper; you needed to be as close as possible to him, almost as if every inch separating the two of you was depriving you of something vital to your sustenance. Echoing your own urge, Bruno's hands were squeezing at the skin of your hips and lower back with a grip so tight you knew it would leave bruises. His firm hold was pressing you harder against his tight, making a mess out of your underwear.

Your breathing was ragged and labored, and so was his. The whole world seemed to have stopped; the music playing in the store and the buzzing of the refrigerator were distant background noises. Bruno's taste was on your tongue and the fresh citrussy scent of his cologne was invading your nostrils; his body was all that you could feel, all around you; the wet noises of your kiss and the friction of your clothing against the fabric of his suit were the most predominant sound echoing in your ears, punctuated by the occasional moan either of you let escape. You opened your eyes and met his, mid kiss. Glossy and burning with desire. The flaming knot in your loins became unbearable. You needed him.

The kiss ended too soon: you felt as if the air had been deprived of its oxygen; your lungs burned in need for their life-giving element. Bruno pressed his forehead against your, not interrupting the eye contact.

"Since when?" you asked through broken breaths.

"Since forever." His reply filled your eyes with tears that he kissed softly. He wrapped his arms around you. "I needed you to know, before it was too late."

"Bruno, you can't leave me", you pleaded as your tears were forming new wet patches on his suit, which joined the previous ones that your crying had left behind. "I can't lose you too." He didn't reply; instead, he sighed and hugged your body tighter.

"In another lifetime, maybe we can be happy."

Darkness all around. The last thing you heard was Trish calling your name. You had promised Leone and Bruno revenge; seeing Narancia's dead body in the Colosseum had awakened that promise: your body no longer belonged to you, it was destined to become your fallen comrades weapon of bengeance.

You embraced your fate with cold acceptance: fighting against the inevitable death would have been pathetic. Neither of the ones that preceeded you in death had tried to escape their destiny.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until someone's warm touch on your cheek made your lashes flutter ond your eyelids part. A golden light was omnipresent, so strong that you would have normally tried to cover your eyes and escape it. You found it surprisingly bearable. You turned your head towards the hand now cupping your face and smiled as you recognized Bruno.

This was supposed to be last Monday's fic dhsjdhsjdh. I don't know when the Abbacchio part 2 will come out, the last installment of "Oxtober", because *drum roll* I start working again this week!! I hope I can manage to write it down, since I already have the plot planned.

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